This Borrowed Madness
by GoEastJane
Summary: Albus Severus Potter's slow descent into madness, power, and Dark magic. As a misfit, a Slytherin, the son of a hero, the namesake of two complicated men, and the vessel for an ancient magic, any of these elements could be blamed for his fall. Albus himself, blames nothing but fate.
1. Prologue: An Open Letter to No One

Prologue: An Open Letter to No One

Cunning.

Ambition.

Curiosity.

Ingenuity.

Power.

Passion.

Lust.

There are those who condemn these qualities and concepts. But they are the traits that make us human. The same traits that inspire greatness. They are the qualities that live in the deepest roots of my heart and they are the qualities that gave me a home. My father told me not to be ashamed of being a Slytherin. But, I can only imagine it was because he didn't understand what it means. I know I have shamed him now.

I hoped my father would understand what lives inside of me when he himself, once hosted a piece of the Dark Lord's soul inside his own body. And perhaps he does. But, I don't want his pity. Not anymore. The Dark Lord ripped his own soul into pieces and my father destroyed each of those pieces one by one. Some of you will understand me because your souls too, have been split and eaten by the passage of time. Some of you condemn me because your souls remain whole, and I have made my peace with this. Say what you will about me, but a broken soul is a pain I don't wish on anyone. I hate my father's pity because he does know this pain and he has watched it swallow me. He believes I had a choice, and I write this letter so I may have my say and tell you that sometimes, there is no choice.

My father told me he named me after the two bravest men he knew. My path should have come as no surprise. Like me, both of those men understood that power is the way to progress. Like me, they did great and terrible things for love. And like me, they were both liars.

I will pass out of this world by way of the sea. The same place we all crawled from. There I will join my kindred spirit, a creature that understands rage and beauty in a way I never have in this life. Waves like great, grey mountains will swallow us together and it will be our final gift to each other. I hear the thing now, calling like an ancient foghorn. I will write these few words. And then I will go.

When you learn my story, you will wonder how I was such a disappointment to my family. There is no answer. Fate isn't always kind.

-A.S.P

* * *

** Author's Notes: This will be my longest note. I generally don't write lengthy ones, if at all.

First off, Disclaimer: All aspects related to the Harry Potter world are created by J.K. Rowling. Any views and philosophies expressed by the characters are not necessarily a reflection of the writer's personal beliefs.

Now that's out of the way... I will try to remain as compliant to post DH canon as possible. Feel free to call me on something that is non canon. I may take some liberties with appearances and nicknames. I have given Neville Longbottom a daughter because a) I really wanted to and b) J.K. has not specified whether or not he had any children and how old they may be. This fic will span several years and I'll title the chapters with how far we've jumped ahead in Albus' timeline. I guess fair warning, if you stick with it (and I stick with it, but I normally see things through to the end) I do plan to break hearts hard. I think this will be an interesting story, but not a happy one. That being said, enjoy and I love hearing your thoughts in the comments.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Early in the Autumn of His Third Year

It was the third sorting ceremony that Albus Potter had attended. He remembered his own well. Remembered standing in a puddle after a freezing journey across the lake, trying in vain to use Hagrid's wide back as a shield from the rain. A coil of nerves twisted his guts. He had spent a train ride listening to Jamey's teasing, replayed his father's voice a hundred times. "So what if you are in Slytherin?... Albus Severus, you are named after two Hogwarts headmasters. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew."

He did not feel like the bravest man when the Sorting Hat called his name. "Such resistance to Slytherin?" the Hat whispered in his ear. "Gryffindor will limit you, my boy. It may be home to the courageous, but it won't nurture your drive or your curiosity. Perhaps Ravenclaw then, if not Slytherin."

In that moment, the faces of every Gryffindor Albus knew and there were many, flashed through his mind. They were all brave without question. And so good. And here he was trembling like a leaf. He wasn't one of them. His Dad. The hero of their world. How could he ever live up to that? Ravenclaw... He could go to Ravenclaw. Rose had just been sorted there herself and the family was likely surprised, but she had looked so pleased...

"You could be great..." the Hat continued. "As great as everyone in your blood. Greater even, perhaps. It's all here in your head. But for this, it must be Slytherin. And if that's not in your heart, then... Ravenclaw."

Albus gripped the sides of the stool, thought the Hat had chosen. He almost dropped from his seat to chase after his cousin, Rose Weasley at the blue and gold table. But, the hat had not spoken aloud. His Dad had been right. The Hat was giving him a choice. He found his courage. Maybe there was hope for Gryffindor after all. Maybe the Hat was testing him.

"Right," he thought. It was so curious to talk to something in his head. "Sort me where you think I'll fit, then. Wherever it is, I'll accept it."

"Clever boy," the Hat had chuckled. "In that case…. SLYTHERIN!"

And Albus could have sworn he heard half the Great Hall gasp. And probably did.

His sisters and cousins now waited the same fate. Everyone wanted to know where the latest members of the Potter/Weasley clans would end up. The wizarding world treated it like front page news, like the Royal Family the Muggles went on and on about. Albus couldn't deny that sometimes fame felt good. But more often than not, it was a nuisance.

"Where's your sister, then?" His best friend, Finbar Corrigan craned his neck at the long line of first years, freckles prominent in the dappled candlelight.

"Nearly there. Can you move your head, Fin? I can't see."

Fin leaned back and Albus spotted Lily's bright red hair. She was bouncing slightly, but had a smile on her face. Trust Lily to be more excited than nervous. He would be so proud to have his sister sorted into his House. And why not? Lily was daring and enthusiastic, like Mom and Dad and Jamey. But those were not qualities exclusive to Gryffindors. Lily was also quick and clever. Always asking to join, how to do something, to learn. There was no reason she couldn't be a Slytherin too. He looked to the Gryffindor table on the opposite side of the hall and managed to catch his brother's eye. Jamey gave him a wink. He was leaned casually on his elbows in order to look cool and bored with the Sorting Ceremony like the other fourth years, even if he was waiting to see where his sister was sorted. Jamey was probably confident she would go to Gryffindor, Albus could tell from his smirk. Was there ever any question of which house James Sirius Potter would end up in? He had lived up to everyone's expectations. Star Seeker, great marks, a leader, and sometimes a trouble maker in an innocent and prankish way. No, it was Albus that continued to puzzle everyone. But as he looked to the Gryffindors, easily the most raucous and celebratory bunch out of the Houses with their reds and oranges and golds, he knew he had never belonged with them. But Lily… Lily could be full of surprises too.

She was two students away from the front of the line.

"Maybe she'll give us a proper shock and go to Hufflepuff," said Fin.

"Teddy'll love that," Albus said, eyes glued to her flaming hair. His parents always said they were proud he broke the family mold. That there was something truly admirable about each of the Hogwarts houses. And as the odd one out, Albus believed them. (It was Jamey perhaps, that held a Gryffindor superiority complex.) But, there was a part of him that didn't want to be alone anymore. A part of him that would burst with love for his sister if she were sorted into Slytherin. He could show her the secret passage to the Common Room, they could study together by the fire. He would show her what it truly meant to be a Slytherin. And if she was Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, that would be exciting too. And the part of his heart that sometimes ached for loneliness deep in the Slytherin dungeons on cold nights and when he saw all the red and gold all over their living room at home… well, that part of him begged that she not be placed in Gryffindor. Anything but Gryffindor. Because with all the Potters sorted into Gryffindor except for him, the lone Slytherin... People would scratch their heads. People would talk. And the talk was not likely to be nice.

"POTTER, LILY," barked Deputy Headmistress Hooch, her sharp mouth turning up just a bit at the corner when she caught sight of his little sister.

She bounded onto the stool like a rabbit and Madam Hooch dropped the Hat over her glittering eyes. Albus realized he was holding his breath. Fin sat frozen, arms crossed, mouth agape. It felt like forever, but it really didn't take long.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat sang out while an uproar from the lion bannered table caused hundreds of candle flames to gutter overhead. Albus felt like his heart had dropped into his stomach. "POT -TER, POT-TER," they chanted, banging on the table in time.

"Alright, thank you Gryffindors," Madam Hooch shouted and called out the next name.

Jamey wrapped Lily in a bear hug and as soon as she was released, she looked to Albus. She was grinning ear to ear and gave him a full arm wave. He raised his hands above his head to applaud her, but the smile on his face was stretched thin.

"Tough break for her," Fin said with an impish grin. "Getting sorted with the fatheads?"

"Yeah," Albus said, smile still strained. "She'll be great though."

Another pair of eyes had caught his, this time from the Hufflepuff table. It was easy to spot her face, like the sun peeping from the behind the clouds. Alice Longbottom. Daughter of their own Neville Longbottom, Professor of Herbology. Neville was one of his Dad's oldest friends and Alice was one of his own, older even than Fin. She gave him a sad smile, eyes soft. Alice knew exactly what he was thinking and he had to look away. His stomach turned uncomfortably.

He had to wait until the Sorting line was nearly at it's end before he watched Uncle Percy's two girls, Molly and Lucy get sorted. They went to Gryffindor and Ravenclaw respectively. Lucy's placement wasn't much of an upset considering her mother was a Ravenclaw. And second to last, was Uncle Fred's red haired daughter Roxanne who also went to Gryffindor. Albus could hear Lily shrieking with delight.

"And then there was just ol' Al," Fin gave him a slap on the back. "The only snake in the grass."

"Shut it, Fin," he said grumpily and Fin looked rather wounded.

Madam Hooch shouted for quiet, her voice projected through the Sonorus charm. No one was quite sure how old Madam Hooch was, not even Albus's parents were sure. But he had never seen such steel from a little old lady. She stood tall, probably from her days as an athlete and she was strict, but fair. Not be crossed, but still good for some fun. Students loved to joke with her about being ancient for which they were threatened with being beaten with a broomstick.

"Someone has to keep you lot in order," Madam Hooch announced. "And it may as well be myself as the only old fuddy duddy in the room. The staff may be about as young as you students in my eyes, but they are as excellent a staff as the school has known. And so without further ado, please give your attention to our Headmaster Phineas March."

Everyone applauded Madam Hooch, for she was well loved by most. There was really no need to quiet the room for Professor March. Something about him compelled a person to listen. He was a big, tall man with lanky arms and legs and shovel like hands. He looked relatively normal sized when seated by Hagrid, but Hagrid was at the other end of the table, beaming through his bushy white beard. Professor March had dancing dark eyes, and curly salt and pepper hair that brushed his shoulders. With the exception of Severus Snape's brief run, Headmaster March was the youngest Headmaster in the history of the school and Madam Hooch did not exaggerate, he had selected a fairly young staff.

"Welcome students, welcome home," Professor March called out in his deep, melodic voice. "Welcome to another year at our beloved school. Another year of learning. Another year to explore and grow. This year I encourage you to do what you love and study with passion, that which you love to study. Ask questions. Think beyond boundaries. When we pursue knowledge in this way, great things follow. And I know each of you can bring greatness to the magic that binds us together. I know young stomachs want feeding, so with that, I'll leave you to it."

When Headmaster March sat, the empty plates blossomed with food and the students began eating with an enthusiasm that bordered on rudeness. All except for Albus Potter, who wasn't feeling very hungry.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Middle of the Autumn in His Third Year

Albus was very conflicted among the sea of green and silver, roaring at the Slytherin Quidditch team, cursing the Gryffindors. Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch matches were always awkward. But this was his first Gryffindor vs. Slytherin House Cup match. And Jamey was just so good. He was as quick on a broom as Mom. Would do this thing she taught him to deal with agressive Seekers. He'd draw his opponent high up and then corkscrew down as though attacking, missing the Seeker by inches. A merry chase. That's what James did. Albus had a book he loved to read as a child about a knight, a hunter, and a witch. They led a rival king on a merry chase. It's the only phrase he could think of when Jamey's opponent flew after him, trying to catch up, never coming close. It was like a dance. Dad had been a Seeker too. But he liked to lurk until he saw the Snitch and then strike. Albus would have liked to see him play, it sounded like a very Slytherin method. Jamey and Mom however, were bold. If they didn't know where they Snitch was, they spent the time trying to lure Bludgers away from their teammates. Albus loved to watch Quidditch. But it became apparent early in life that there was not much hope for him to play.

Albus and James were both small, but where Jamey was wiry, Albus was just bony. Where Jamey's hair was casually wild, tinged with red when it hit the sun, Albus' hung thick and pitch black and neat. Jamey's nose freckled in the sun, Albus stayed pale. They both had their father's green eyes, but that was where the similarities ended. Jamey was all crowds, and barking laughter, and stunts, and pranks. Albus was thoughtful, analytical, tight knit groups by the fire at night, bonds that went deeper than Quidditch match celebrations. And when Jamey took to a broom naturally just as Lily did, Albus felt like he was trying to walk on his hands. The broom never stopped feeling like it was out of his control. He got sick to his stomach when he flew too long and he nearly fell off on sharp turns. Diving was out of the question and rising made his head feel funny. It made no sense to him. A slight movement of his hand had no effect on his direction, and a stronger one, spun him right around. His Dad had been patient. They must have put in a year's worth of practice.

Finally, one day in the summer after his first year, at the end of an embarrassing term of flying lessons, his Dad plopped next to him on the grass and said, "Well… flying's good fun, but wand work is more important anyway."

His Dad didn't seem disappointed in the least, but Albus couldn't help but think he had given up on him. Not that it wasn't without good reason. He clearly would never be a flyer, much less a Hogwarts Quidditch player.

Now the Snitch was in view. Whichever Seeker caught it would win the House Cup. Albus had no shortage of House loyalty, but this was a brother. And he didn't like the Slytherin Seeker, Darius. He was a big brute that hung around Scorpius Malfoy.

The Snitch had risen high above the rest of the players and Jamey and Darius followed like rockets.

"I can't see!" Fin bounced on his seat.

Neither could Albus, the sun was in his eyes.

A scarlet streak dropped from the clouds with his fist in the air.

"Bollocks!" yelled Fin and the Slytherins booed and wailed while the commentator shouted out the Gryffindor win. The Gryffindor crowd roared like lions and stomped in time.

Albus couldn't help but smile.

"I knew your bloody brother would ruin it for us," Fin sighed.

"Oh come on, that was brilliant." Albus stood to watch Jamey land far below. Gryffindors were already streaming onto the pitch.

"Yeah, it was too brilliant."

He could see Lily pushing her way through the crowd to get to her brother.

"Go on then," said Fin and nodded toward the Potter siblings.

Albus looked around him at the Slytherins grumbling and slowly leaving the stands to make their way back to the castle. He would be the only one in green down on the pitch. It would be bold to run down there and celebrate with the Gryffindors. Would not go unnoticed, but surely most people would understand. He belonged with his family. Albus ran to his brother without a second thought.

"There's the traitor."

Albus took a deep breath. He knew the owner of the voice well. He turned around to find Scorpius Malfoy striding down the empty hallway behind the Library.

"He's my brother," Albus said. "Not that it's any of your business."

Scorpius' father hated Albus' own all through their school days. Harry told Albus that they had made peace, that war changes people. But apparently Draco Malfoy hadn't passed the message on to his son.

"You know something, Potter?" Scorpius walked faster, blonde hair shining under the torch light. "You're pathetic."

Albus felt a flush in his cheeks. He'd gotten into fights with Scorpius before. And his parents were always "disappointed." Which was worse than angry. "Really," he said. "I hadn't noticed."

Scorpius snorted. Stepped right up into his face so Albus could really see his creepy pale eyes. The smaller boy held his ground, fists clenched, one hand on his wand.

"You can be a smart arse if you like," said Scorpius. "But I know the truth. You're obviously no Slytherin. But you're also too much of a coward for Gryffindor."

Albus could have hit him. It took everything in him not to do it. Uncle Ron once suggested he do it.

"I got into Slytherin with my brains," Albus said quietly. "So I'm not sure how you got in. What did you do? Pay the hat?"

"Hilarious coming from someone who hides behind Daddy," Scorpius snarled.

Albus felt his eye twitch. Breathe and say something smart. That's what his Dad told him to do when he Scorpius was goading him. "You know what I think?" said Albus. "I think you're a sore loser. A really sore loser since you weren't even on a broom."

"And I bet you don't have the guts to duel me." Scorpius whipped out his wand.

"Detention with Hooch for dueling a whiny rich prat? I'll pass," Albus glared.

"Little shit," Scorpius muttered. "Septum Sanguine." He was too quick for Albus.

After a flick of his wand, a small fountain of blood gushed from Albus' nose.

"Dammit," Albus coughed around the blood. He rose his wand to retaliate, but the blood wouldn't stop gushing.

"See you, Potter." Scorpius swept away.

And Albus took a humiliating walk to the Hospital Wing, lightheaded as the blood left his nose in waves.

"Do you think I'm a proper Slytherin? Or do you think the hat can make mistakes?"

"Mate, you've asked me this so many times," Fin said. "If I'm in Slytherin, no reason you can't be."

"Yeah, but you're brilliant," Albus grunted. "You invent new potions and dig up weird old spells. It's mad."

"I just piss around," Fin waved him off. "Mate, you're like top of our year."

"So?" Albus shrugged.

"So, I don't know, mate. Like - we fit in here, you know what I'm saying? Ravenclaws are weird, Gryffindors are show offs, and Hufflepuffs… well, I could've been in Hufflepuff like me Uncle Aidan, but you're too smart for Hufflepuff." Fin began choking over a cloud of smoke rising from his cauldron. His concoctions were sometimes so foul he had to brew them in the bathroom or the whole Common Room would likely chuck him out the door.

"You sound like a prat," said Albus. "But thanks."

"You know what I mean though," Fin blustered, waving his hand around madly to clear the fumes. "If we weren't in Slytherin, what other house would we be in? Didn't your Dad worry about that too? Just, like - in reverse? The whole school thought he was the heir of Slytherin and he thought he didn't belong in Gryffindor?"

Albus raised an eyebrow at him.

"I read a book on him," said Fin.

"That's weird," said Albus.

"You're dad's cool mate," Fin jabbed his wand at the cauldron to put out the flames. "Well, that didn't bloody work… but, I'll tell you something that does. I found this old hex, but I can't get the wand movement. It's wonky and it says something about intention." Fin pulled a crumpled bit of parchment from his pocket.

Albus flattened it out, squinting at the smeared ink. "Incedioderm? This looks awful."

"I went to a Muggle boy's school, mate. Sometimes, the bigger lads would grab me arm and twist like this," Fin twisted his fists in opposite directions. "Burned something awful. Same thing," Fin tapped the paper.

"What do you want me to do with this?"

"Get Scorpius back," Fin said as if it were obvious. "Duel him. Show him you're no coward. I'll be your second."

"If we get caught, Dad'll kill me," Albus sighed, although the thought of challenging Scorpius to a duel was a nice one.

"So we don't get caught," said Fin.

Albus was sure Uncle Ron had once told him a story about sneaking out to duel Draco Malfoy. Maybe Uncle Ron would be his second against his Dad.


	4. Chapter 3

3\. Late in the Autumn of His Third Year

Albus found a dead squirrel by the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It may have been disgusting, but he practiced the spell until it was second nature. Fin was right. You needed the intention. You had to want to burn someone.

Now that he was face to face with Scorpius in a secret passage under the one eyed witch statue, he felt the urge to burn. He had heard some first years complaining that Scorpius had used the same bloody nose curse on them that was used on him. But, they wouldn't tell because they were frightened of the spells he dared to use and the friends he surrounded himself with. Lily told him he cursed a first year Gryffindor so that the boy's toenails fell off. She hadn't seen the evidence for herself. But Albus didn't like it. It was against school rules but more importantly, these spells stank of Dark magic.

They stood face to face, wands drawing a line down the middle of their faces.

"You need to stop hurting people," said Albus.

"Maybe they shouldn't talk about things they don't understand." Scorpius' lips barely moved.

"Like what?" Albus frowned.

"Enough talking," said Scorpius. "Let's go, Potter."

He moved so fast. Said the curse so quickly Albus couldn't understand it. He raised his arm to block anyway but he was too slow and then…

Oh, Merlin. This was terrible. He'd never felt pain like this. It was like the bones in his right arm were twisting. He was going to vomit. He was sure of it.

Then it was gone. Scorpius turned away. "That was easy."

Albus' blood was on fire. That curse was far beyond their year. That curse was something no decent kid should be using. It didn't matter that Scorpius had turned away from him. He raised his wand.

"INCENDIODERM!" The spell took a complicated twisting of the wrist and sometimes he failed to cast it. But this time, Scorpius dropped to the ground.

He howled and swore. "What did you do? You wanker -," He grunted and clutched his leg. He yanked up the pant leg. Albus slowly walked up to him, looked down at the damage he had done. The burn was far worse than the red streaks or singed fur he had left on the squirrel. The skin on Scorpius' leg had blistered into large, white boils. His gut reaction was to start apologizing, but he held it in.

Instead he looked down at Scorpius, put his hands in the pockets of his robes.

"You've got a lot of nerve, you prick," Scorpius spat. "Talk to me about the spells I use… bollocks," he groaned again and held his legs.

"I'm going to turn myself in for that spell," Albus said.

"How noble, so Gryffindor. Prick," he repeated, tears gathering at the edges of his eyes.

"I'm going to say I had no idea what that spell would do. And when I turn myself in, you won't have anything on me," Albus continued. "But I'll have loads of stuff on you. You learn those spells from your old Dad?"

"NO!" Scorpius screeched. "You bloody - no, I-,"

"Wouldn't want to get him in trouble, would we," Albus said.

Scorpius sat up, pale from pain. "Maybe I had you pegged wrong. You're more Slytherin than I am. You bloody little twit. You can't do any wrong in this school. You're a Potter. You don't know what it's like to have my last name. It's you they should have their eye on, not me."

"Whine all you like," Albus shrugged. "Just stop taking the piss out of first years."

"First years?" Scorpius looked confused. Then he shook his head. "You don't know a damn thing. Get out of my face."

Albus turned away from him. He may have looked cool, but it was far from what he was feeling. His Dad had told him to do something smart and he had. There was no reason to feel guilty.

Madame Hooch stared at him down the length of her beak like nose.

"Well, Potter," she said. "Clearly I have no choice but to inform your parents and assign you detention. A lot of detention."

"I know," Albus said, trying his best to look a saint.

"Why you can Malfoy can't stay away from each other is beyond me. You would have thought you'd learned something from your fathers. Surely they've talked you about this?" Hooch sighed.

"Yes ma'am," Albus said, trying his best to look like a saint. "I know it was wrong to use that spell when I didn't know what it would do."

"Right. There's the matter of that spell," Hooch continued. "Where did you find it?"

Albus pinched up his nose, looked up at the ceiling. He hoped he wasn't overdoing this look of confusion. "I don't remember, Professor. It was in a book I found in the stacks. Handwritten. I didn't know anything about it."

"Well do try to stretch your memory in the coming days. I don't like the idea of having dark spells scribbled in books, floating unchecked through our library," she frowned. "Well, you're being punished on two counts. One for fighting with Mr. Malfoy and another for irresponsible use of magic. Let this be a hard lesson for you."

"Of course, Professor," he said solemnly.

"You may go," she waved him off.

"One more thing, Professor." Albus waited for his face to flush, but was shocked to find how easy it was for him to lie.

"Make it fast, Potter," Hooch scanned some parchment on her desk.

"Malfoy may have a different version of what I told you. He has good as told me he would lie to get me in trouble," he said.

Hooch rolled up a scrap of parchment impatiently. "I think I'm clever enough to sort out the hijinks of young boys on my own, Potter. But I understand your concern. I may be disappointed in your behavior but I do appreciate the courage it took to come to me willingly and explain what you'd done. Don't worry about Mr. Malfoy. In fact, give him as wide a berth as you can."

"Thanks, Professor," Albus nodded. His face was still as stone, but when he left the Deputy Head's office a smirk teased at his mouth. It had been so much easier than he had thought. Maybe that would stop Scorpius from stalking around like a bully. Now maybe Malfoy understood who he was dealing with.

"Where the bloody hell did you get that spell from anyway?" Albus asked Fin as they lurked in their chairs in a shadowy corner of the Common Room.

"Me cousin used it when he was in a gang in Killarney. Quick way to fend off blokes trying to give him the jump," Fin shrugged.

Albus shook his head, still unsure of what he thought of the whole business. Malfoy had been slinking around like a kicked dog, so at least his plan was working for the moment.

"Well it worked, didn't it?" Fin said, as if reading his thoughts.

"Hmm," Albus nodded, lost in thought.

A rustle of wings disturbed his thoughts. His eagle owl, Warwick had landed on the back of the armchair after dropping a bit of parchment in his lap.

"Who sends post in the Common Room?" Fin snorted.

Albus shrugged and unrolled the parchment.

A messy scrawl spelled out:

Potter,

We heard you beat Malfoy at his own game and you know spells that could protect us. Malfoy and his lot have been hurting us for weeks and we can't prove it's them. They're sneaky. Teach us the spells and we can protect each other? We'll look out for your owl.

Signed,

Percius, Meg, Gillian, Hayworth (first years)

"Bloody hell," Albus sighed and passed the message to Fin.

"Oh come on, mate," Fin said. "You know Percius? He's a Slytherin. Tiny, spotty, pathetic bloke. We've got to help them out."

"I'm in enough trouble thanks to your spell," Albus grumbled.

But the gears in his head were turning. He may have taken care of Malfoy but if possible, his friends were worse. Todrick, Gingham, Annalee…

There was something funny going on and to get to the bottom of it, he would at least have to hear what the first years had to say.

"Alright," Albus conceded. "Give me some parchment."

"Brilliant," said Fin. "We'll get ourselves some little first year toadies."


End file.
